Dangerous
by Throwing Star
Summary: I am Lord Voldemort. The words burned into Harry's skull like a searing hot iron. The most powerful wizard in centuries, like it or not, was back.
1. Imperio

**Has this been done before? Sure. Has it been done like this? No. Fucking. Way.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

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><p>I am Lord Voldemort. Harry stared at the fiery words in abject horror. His lifetime nemesis was standing not thirty feet away from him with a smug look on his face, and he was powerless to do anything about it. Less than powerless actually. He was at the mercy of this man, and he knew it.<p>

"You see, Harry, Lord Voldemort is my past, my present, and my _future_." The last word was uttered in the long, sibilant hiss of parsel tongue. _"How could you, a mere child still in diapers and unable to survive without your pitiful mudblood mother, defeat __**ME**__, the most powerful wizard that this world has ever known? Hmm? Can you tell me?" _Harry was frozen in place by the eyes that were so similar to his own, yet very different.

"Dumbledore says it was love." There was silence for a moment before Riddle burst out laughing.

"That old man is senile. Forget about him, Harry. You will see him no more." Anger rose up in him like a poisonous steam, both freezing and blazing hot at the same time, pushing adrenalin through his vains.

"Dumbledore. Is not. Senile." The teenager only looked on with a dark smile.

"So you say. But where was he when you were locked up in your little cupboard, at the _tender _mercies of your relatives? Hmm? I'll tell you where he was. He was in his office, sucking on his lemon drops like the old fool that he is. He did not think to check on me when I was an orphan, so obviously bullied in my childhood, and he did not think to do that for you either. You and me, Harry, we're more alike than you think!" Harry was shocked that Riddle knew so much about him, and appalled at the comparison between the two of them.

"No we're not!"

"Oh, but we are. The only difference between you and me is that of circumstance. If our positions had been reversed, you would have gone to the great house of Slytherin. You would have delved into the deeper magics, those that carry _real _weight. And you would have become just like me." Harry tried to deny it, tried to ignore the awful _truth _to Riddle's words, but to no avail.

"Fuck you!"

"Ahh, such a dirty mouth for one so young. Perhaps some manners need be _introduced_. Imperio!" A red beam shot out of the end of Harry's own wand and hit him in the chest before he could react. A weight settled over his mind, bidding him to do the elder teenager's will. It wasn't uncomfortable, necessarily, but it didn't feel right in any sense of the term.

"Now apologize, dear Harry." He tried to fight it, but it was to no avail – he was truly caught within Tom Riddle's web.

"I... I... I apologize."

"That's better. But now, I must decide what to do with you. On one hand, you have displayed extreme foolishness and perhaps even stupidity coming down here to do battle with the monster of Salazar Slytherin, and all merely for an eleven year old girl of no consequence. You're stubbornness apparently knows no ends. You are obvious to the extreme in everything you do, and do not apparently care of other's opinions of you... and yet I can sense a bit of myself in you. I sense the same darkness that I once had at the same age, although it is admittedly far less pronounced in you. But with the proper grooming... What have you to say about all this?" The imperio forced him to remain silent.

"Ah, I apologize Harry. You have nothing to say as you are merely an extension of my will. Now. Let us see what you are truly made of. Kill the girl. And please, do try to do it... creatively." Riddle tossed Harry his wand, unworried about the still naïve and unpowerful boy breaking loose of his spell. Harry turned his head and observed Ginny lying prone under the "greatest of the Hogwarts Four" statue. She was deathly pale, and she did not appear to be breathing, although such a thing was difficult to tell through Hogwart's voluminous robes.

"Wingardium Leviosa" Waving his wand in the pattern dictated by the aforementioned spell, he watched as Ginny rose up towards the jagged ceiling. The tumult of feelings he would have expected to feel were gone, replaced by something else, something darker, but only underneath the blanket of the imperius curse. Higher and higher she rose, until she was just barely pressed up against one of the extremely sharp stalactites. She seemingly paused there for a moment, but if one were close enough he or she could tell that the magic that was pushing her up was struggling against the natural formation of rock. In the end, magic won out and red fluid began to pour down in torrents to the floor of the underground cavern, covering it in a dark, sickly sheen of blood.

"I did say creatively, but that will come with time I suppose." Harry turned to look at the elder boy blankly.

"Yes, Harry. With time you shall become my... _apprentice._"


	2. Hospital Wing

Ron had been devastated by the loss of his sister, going so far as to consider it his own fault. He had sunk down on the floor of the rocky cave and cried for nearly half an hour. Harry had found himself annoyed at the slightly elder boy's behavior, although for what reason he could not fathom. Grief was normal for a person who had just lost a family member, although Harry found himself wondering whether he would feel any grief at all if his family members were murdered. He almost snorted at the prospect. Not likely.

In the meantime, he had sat down beside Ron and his unconscious defense professor and waited for someone to help him out of this dank hole in the ground. Slytherin certainly wasn't helping anyone's stereotypical opinion of him with the Chamber of Secrets. It wasn't long before a flash of fire announced Fawkes' arrival. In his talons he had the sorting hat clutched with a strength that made Harry wonder if the Sorting hat would have a few holes as an addition for the next sorting. The bird looked oddly at Harry, cocking its head to the size as if asking a question.

"Ginny was dead when I arrived. Her body is over there." He pointed to the other side of the rock pile, out of site of Ron and his field of view – nobody wanted to stare at her lifeless body while they waited for help. Fawkes trilled sadly at them, but nonetheless flapped over to them and picked them up in his enormous talons, dropping the sorting hat to the floor. What had he been doing with the hat anyway? It was unlikely that it would be of any help in a fight, unless it could sing the monster of Slytherin to death.

A flash of fire ended those thoughts as he and the others were transported directly to the hospital wing, although he was uninjured for the most part.

Madam Pomfrey looked startled and then alarmed as she saw the unconscious professor, two very dirty and tired looking boys, and Ginny's glassy-eyed body.

Rushing over, she cast a patronus and gave it a message to give to Dumbledore before throwing spells at a furious rate on the redhead, no doubt trying to resuscitate her.

"Damnit!" Harry had never heard the unflappable nurse swear before. Apparently the situation was getting to her. Harry knew that, unfortunately, Ginny was hopeless. There was a less than zero chance of saving someone who had looked into the eyes of a basilisk. Slinking over to a nearby bed, he hopped up and lay his head on a pillow, wondering at his callous behavior. Before tonight he certainly would have been much more distraught over her death, but all he could feel now was a numb sort of emptiness.

_As soon as he had stepped into the chamber, he had rushed over to Ginny's body. It had been lying at an odd angle, with her knees bent underneath her body as if she had suddenly dropped boneless to the ground. Harry got the implications immediately, and had levitated her as quickly as possible back to the other two. Her body had been extremely cold, signifying that her death had been at least an hour before. He had been too late._

Too late. Of course he was too late. The message itself had been written at least an hour before anyone even found it, and then they had to go and round up Lockhart and find the Chamber itself, no mean task. All in all they had probably taken two hours in between the time she was kidnapped and the time they got to her. Certainly not fast enough.

"Harry." Startled out of his reverie, Harry turned his head to see the serious face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Yes?" Dumbledore pursed his lips for a moment before continuing.

"I am sorry to do this so soon, but I must ask you to divulge what happened in the Chamber. It is imperative that we catch the monster." An unknown force pushed Harry to look into the headmaster's eyes.

"There's really not much to divulge Professor. Ron and I saw the message and ran to get help from Professor Lockhart." Here he gave a look of disgust at the oblivious (literally) man lying on his own bed with a happy smile on his face. "We found him packing all of his things as fast as he could. When we asked him where he was going, he told us that he was going away, something about this not being part of the teaching deal. When we asked why he wasn't behaving as he portrayed himself in his books, he told us that it wasn't "really" him doing all of those heroic acts in his books, and that he had 'always prided himself on his memory charms'. Then he tried to obliviate Ron and me, but fortunately we got him first with an expelliarmus. We forced him to go with us to the chamber, which was in Myrtle's bathroom. I used parseltongue to open it and we headed slid down a really long pipe. As soon as we landed Lockhart grabbed Ron's wand from him and tried to obliviate us... again. Of course Ron's wand was messed up and so the spell backfired and hit him in the face." At this, a hint of the old cheery Dumbledore came back.

"Not something he anticipated I'm sure."

"No, I'd imagine not." There was silence for a moment before Dumbledore gestured to continue. "Well of course he flew back and hit the wall, bringing down tons of rocks and stuff on top of us. I dove one way and Ron dove the other, and we ended up with a huge mound of rocks in between us. I told Ron to get the rocks out of the way and then went on. I eventually came to the Chamber itself and had to open it again with parseltongue. Inside I saw Ginny lying under a huge statue of Salazar Slytherin, so I rushed over to her. I... she was dead. I levitated her back to Ron and Lockhart and then waited until your bird came and rescued us." Dumbledore reclined back into the chair looking immensely aged.

"You have done well, Harry. Few would have the courage to face Slytherin's monster, even with a professor of defense by his side. I am proud of you." Harry felt like the words should have meant more to him than they did, but he bowed his head out of faux embarrassment anyway.

"Thank you sir."

"There is one more thing – did you not see the monster itself?"

"No sir. We did see a fifty or sixty meter long snake skin though."

"A snake skin?" Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment before a look of understanding came over his face. "A basilisk."

"Yes sir. That's what Hermione thought."

"She is a remarkable young witch. And I'm sure you'll be happy to know that the mandrakes are nearly fully matured and ready to revive her." Harry smiled slightly at him.

"Thank you sir." The headmaster gave him one last penetrating look before nodding.

"Don't thank me, Harry. Thank Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape." It was unlikely that he would ever _thank _the man who seemed to have a personal grudge against Harry for something he had never done, but he nodded anyway.

"And remember Harry; you are welcome in my office at any time. Do not hesitate to speak to me." He watched as Dumbledore stood up slowly and walked back towards Madam Pomfrey, no doubt asking her about his and the other's condition.

Bloody tired would be his own diagnosis.


	3. Remembrance

**A/N: I am going state this quite clearly here, and I will never mention it again: Tom will not become 'good'. He will not befriend Harry and/or do anything that is not beneficial to himself. He will not grow to care for Harry, and the same applies vice-versa. Harry _will_, however, grow to respect Voldemort's power and cunning.**

**Oh, and another important thing – this fic will not have any particular pairing, or at least not in the foreseeable future. That is not to say that relationships are totally non-existent, but the subject will mainly be avoided so as to one, make my life easier, and two, avoid angering all of the rabid shippers out there. If you were hoping to see some of _that _sort of action, I am afraid that you will be mainly disappointed.**

**Those things being said, let us return to the story.**

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><p>"Hello again, Harry." Harry wrestled himself out of the elder student's grip and whipped around, pulling his wand out in the process. Behind him, the door to the empty classroom closed keeping them away from prying eyes. In front of him now stood a boy of medium to tall height with black hair, handsome features, and green eyes remarkably similar to his own. The Slytherin crest pinned proudly to his robes stood out to Harry quite distinctively.<p>

"What the hell do you think you're doing you asshole?" Harry had never really been one for cursing, but quite frankly he was a little bit nervous. This boy had a dangerous look to him and Harry didn't really think it wise to cross him... but of course his big mouth had started running without conscious thought. "You better open this effing door or I swear..." Suddenly Harry had a vision of a boy identicial to the one in front of him standing in front of a young Albus Dumbledore, telling him that he did not, in fact, have anything to tell the powerful wizard. "Hang on a sec... I know you." Eyes narrowing slightly in concentration and confusion, he cocked his head. "You're Tom Riddle! From the diary!" Tom chuckled, a tad more darkly than Harry was comfortable with.

"Well spotted Harry. I am indeed Tom Riddle."

"I... how are you here? Better yet, why the hell did you pull me into the classroom? And shouldn't you be nearly sixty years old?"

"As to your first question, quite easily. To the second and third... Well I think, dear Harry, that it is time for you to... _remember_." Harry had no time to react as Tom whipped out his wand and flicked it at him. A beam of bright white light struck him in the forehead and he fell to his knees, blinded. It was as if a barrier had been removed from his mind, and a rush of memories flooded back into him. Accompanying this unpleasant mental sensation came the entirely physical sensation of an almost petrifying locking of his limbs, although his neck was largely free of the effect. Unable to stand, he merely glared up at the green-eyed boy with as much malice as he could muster.

"You _obliviated_ me." Harry hissed malevolently.

"Yes. That is true." There was silence for a moment before Harry decided to continue on the same note as their last conversation.

"I will never be your _apprentice_." Referring to the last statement the dark lord had made before obliviating him. Tom, or rather, Voldemort shook his head in mock disappointment, clicking his tongue.

"So you say Harry, but I have to wonder how much you enjoy being _helpless_. Unable to protect yourself from more skilled wizards, such as myself, Severus Snape, Dumbledore... The list goes on and on Harry. In fact, I would say a majority of the fourth year students could best you in a duel."

It was true, Harry realized. He was... weak. And what's more, he and Ron had been embracing it. He and Ron that is. Hermione had done nothing but study as hard as was humanly possible. Now, though, he would have given almost anything to be strong. He wanted to show those who doubted him that he was, in fact, quite capable. He wanted to destroy those who threatened his life, and his friends'. In short, he wanted to kick Tom Riddle's ass.

But he wasn't strong. He was nothing more than an average twelve year old boy with an unfortunate bad luck and a penchant for getting into dangerous situations. What was the most advanced spell he knew? Expelliarmus. That wouldn't catch even a first year off guard, and it was easily blocked and even more easily dodged. He knew that he wasn't as smart as Hermione, but to tell the truth his meager spell repertoire and lack of any true skill was highly disappointing. He knew he could do better.

Tom Riddle (using a judicious amount of legilimency) saw Harry's own disappointment in himself and capitalized on it.

"Yes Harry. I could help you on your way to greatness. I could make you strong... but only if you let me." At this his eyes grew cold. "Otherwise you will merely be an _extension _of my will... again. The only difference being that this time you will not be allowed free."

"It doesn't look like I have much of a choice now, do I?" He replied bitterly. Voldemort replied with a laugh that made the hackles on his neck rise.

"No, but I am afraid that choices are only for those that are in power. And you, dear Harry, are most certainly not in power."

_...Unless I tell Dumbledore._ Harry thought. Unfortunately for him, Tom was more than proficient in the mind arts and caught the stray thought.

"And how will you tell people of my existence? The greatest dark lord of all time has come back in the form of a young man in a secret chamber that resides in a girls bathroom of all places. You'll be seen as stupid at best and insane at worst. As powerful as wizards are, they are not known for their logic or acceptance of anything outlandish, no matter the source. You would think that given the incredibility of magic they would be a more accepting group." Both of them knew that Harry was defeated. Averting his eyes, the younger boy gave a resigned sigh.

"Fine. What do you want from me?" Tom crouched down so that he was on eye level with the younger boy. His glacial eyes gave Harry the shivers, who did his best to not look directly into them. For some reason he felt that it was dangerous to look into his eyes, but at the same time they were so mesmerizing... Is this what people felt like when they looked into his own eyes? Harry couldn't deny that their physical features were extremely similar, minus his shaggy hair and clumsy glasses.

"For now I will settle with you merely advancing as much as possible in your studies, though especially transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, and charms. You also need to go into the library and begin learning basic warding and arithmancy. You may more or less ignore herbology and potions, as it has no purpose in my plans for you."

"Your plans." He replied blasély.

"Yes. My plans." Seeing a question on the boy's lips he shushed him hurriedly. "Ahh ah. no questions. Unless you wish to be put under the imperius again? I will gladly do so, although I would prefer to keep you entirely free such influences – I find they interfere from doing your best in, shall we say, real life situations."

Despite his Gryffindor bravery, Harry shook his head, knowing that fighting against Tom's wishes at this point would do him no good. Satisfied, Tom nodded and released his magical hold on the younger boy's muscles. Harry could practically hear his bones cracking from the long time spent on the ground in such an uncomfortable position, but he nevertheless made his way out of the classroom, casting one last wary glance at the dark lord before walking quickly out of the door.

The encounter had only taken five or ten minutes, but the consequences of it would be much further reaching than either wizard realized.

Once he was alone, Tom Riddle smiled darkly before disillusioning himself and walking out the door, intent on finding room and board somewhere in Hogsmead... he had overheard two freckled twins that must have been siblings or at least close relatives of Ginny Weasley talking about Dumbledore's younger brother Aberforth keeping a rather seedy tavern.

And as they say, the best place to hide is right under the enemy's crooked nose.

**A/N: I attribute any mistakes in this chapter to the late hour.**


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